When dads love their daughters

For years I have celebrated (complained) about going to the car part store with my dad. As a kid he would take (drag, pull, bribe) me to tag along with him.

The problem with car part store is that their are no magazines to read (unless you count the Auto Trader). The most entertainment comes from looking at the grease marks on the floor, ruffling through the business cards, and if you are lucky and there was a candy rack then you could read through the ingredients and then alphabetize each one on the rack.

Some of my worst (ok I admit it now it was my best) Saturdays were these adventures with my dad.

And for years I have commented on the smell. Oil, gas fumes, orange glo take me back immediately.

Today we pulled into Leslie's Pool with Jess in the back seat. "I hate this store ", she declared. My dad would drag me here as a kid. We would spend hours here.

Then we walked in and she says, "And that smell off chlorine and chemicals........"